


take it or leave it

by salazarsslytherin



Series: Queen Hogwarts AU [1]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Brian May's Giant Schoolgirl Crush On Freddie Mercury, Divination, First Kiss, Getting Together, M/M, Mild Language, Tea Leaf reading, i wrote this in about two hours and haven't edited forgive me, i've given them all the same age in this because it's just easier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-17 22:59:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17569538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salazarsslytherin/pseuds/salazarsslytherin
Summary: Freddie stares hard into Brian’s cup, turning it this way and that for a few moments.  “Okay, this looks...this looks kind of like a heart, but it’s a bit broken up, I’m not sure…”Aheart?Brian’s instantly nervous.a.k.a. Brian has a giant, hideous crush on Freddie and apparently the universe knows about it.





	take it or leave it

There isn’t really enough room around the little round coffee table for four chintz armchairs as well as the four boys who’ve claimed them, but they manage.  Roger’s chair arm is in danger of being caved in by Deaky’s and Brian’s knee is jammed against Freddie’s under the table but they’re making do.

The only one of them who really cares about this class is Freddie, anyway.  Brian had taken it out of pure curiosity and regretted it from the second week in, Roger had assumed it would be an easy O and Deaky...nobody’s really sure why Deaky took Divination.  He never seems to put much effort in but he’s always top of the class—much to Freddie’s disgust—and might actually be a Seer.

Of course, if he _is_ a Seer he must have known how rubbish this class would be and could have had the decency to warn Brian, but that’s by-the-by.  

Freddie’s already got his textbook out and open in his lap—no room on the table—quill in hand, tip stuck between his teeth.  There’s ink on his lip, a tiny dash of blue, but something in Brian goes shy and quiet when he tries to open his mouth to tell him.  

He blinks his attention away from Freddie’s lips and opens his own book, frowning down at it.  “Have we finished with palmistry?”  That had been difficult, Freddie’s hands warm in his own, Freddie’s long fingers running gently over Brian’s palms and telling him he’s destined to live a long, healthy life of worrying about everything. 

“Oh yes, I think we’re onto tea leaves this week,” Freddie replies at once, looking up with a grin.  “Hopefully they’ll give us something better than what they serve in the Great Hall, I hope she has Earl Grey.”

Roger stares at Freddie with fond disgust for a moment.  “Fred,” he says, “you are the weirdest fourteen year old I know.  We like _butterbeer_ , remember?”

Freddie waves him off.  “We can get butterbeer any time.”  They’d nearly broken their backs smuggling cases of it back from their last Hogsmeade weekend, unable to charm the boxes feather-light until they were inside the school gates.

“You—” Roger starts, but Freddie shushes him as the trapdoor swings open.

Brian watches their professor emerge, rattling beads and trailing shawls like a decomposing mummy, and doesn’t bother to hide his disdain.  He rolls his eyes around to his friends.  “She’s late,” he mutters.

Freddie shushes him as well and Roger shoots him a smirk across the table.

“Welcome, children, and a happy week to you all—oh, except for you, darling,” their professor says mystically, one hand passing gently across Brian’s shoulder as she breezes past.  “Do be careful around fire this week, won’t you?”

Brian rolls his eyes again but Freddie reaches over to grab his arm, squeezing tightly.  “Oh Bri, _do_ be careful,” he whispers frantically.

“It’s _made up_ , Fred,” Brian hisses back, though he can’t deny that he’s touched by Freddie’s concern.  And the hand on his arm—literally, of course, but it’s nice as well.  Freddie hasn’t let go, probably doesn’t realise he’s still holding on because his attention has been absorbed by the class once again.  Brian finds himself keeping very still, not wanting to disturb him or accidentally shake him off and make Freddie think he doesn’t want him touching him.  

He accidentally catches Roger’s eye across the table again and blushes when Roger pointedly looks down at Freddie’s hand, waggling his eyebrows.

 _Shut up_ , Brian mouths at him.  Roger is the _worst_ friend ever, he’s been insufferable since he found out about...about Brian’s _crush_ , making pointed little comments and asides wherever he can to try and get Freddie to notice, much to Brian’s mortification.  

Such is his distraction that he has no idea what task their professor has just set them to do but she must have said something as the classroom is suddenly a flurry of movement and Freddie’s hand is gone, he’s on his feet.

“Uh...what are we supposed to be doing?” Brian asks, getting up as well.

Freddie sighs like he’s the most hopeless thing in the world.  “Don’t you _ever_ listen to her?”

No, is the answer to that, because the woman’s an old fraud but Brian wisely chooses not to say so; Freddie has an almost worshipful respect for her and wouldn’t take it well.

“Sorry—just distracted,” he says instead with an apologetic grin.  

Freddie returns his smile with a huffed little laugh.  “We have to get some cups and make tea, then figure out what our leaves are telling us.”

Brian follows Freddie as he weaves between the chairs, tables, pouffes, footstools and lamps, having to duck constantly to avoid the low-hanging drapes so he doesn’t pull half the classroom’s hideous decor down around him.  

Freddie selects the two nicest teacups he can find, then spends several minutes hunting out their matching saucers for he and Brian.  By the time he’s found them, everyone else is already seated and sipping at their tea.

They hurry to get their cups filled by the professor and re-take their seats with Roger and Deaky.  Roger’s got his tongue hanging out, panting like a dog and rubbing his tongue while Deaky snorts with quiet laughter.

“It’s _literally_ boiling hot, Rog, what did you expect?” he sniggers, blowing gently on the surface of his own tea.

“She could’ve made it _drinkable_!” Roger complains.  “I always have it with milk, anyway.  Who drinks tea like this?  It’s vile.  Where’s the sugar?”

“You can’t have sugar in it, that would stop it from working!” Freddie says, blowing on his own cup to cool it down before taking a delicate sip.  It’s not Earl Grey but Freddie doesn’t mind too much, it’s the leaves he’s more interested in anyway.

He _does_ wish it would cool down faster though as he’s impatient to get started.

Brian stares down into his cup as he swills his tea around, trying not to think of all the worthwhile things he could be doing with this hour, like his Astronomy project or reading through the Charms essay Freddie asked him to proofread for him.  He ought to drop Divination but he tells himself it’s another grade, at least, and he won’t be carrying it into his N.E.W.T.s so it’ll only be for another year after this.

Really, though, it’s because it’s one of his few classes with Freddie and the others this year—their only one with all four of them—so even though he’s not learning anything worthwhile, it’s still worth it for that.  Up until third year, Ravenclaw had had most classes with Slytherin so Brian had sat next to Freddie for nearly everything, and it meant they had the same homework for nearly everything so they’d work on that together, too.  Or, more accurately, Brian would work on it while Freddie moaned he was bored and Brian told him what to write.

Then last year everyone’s choice subjects had skewed the timetables and Brian does, admittedly, get a lot more work done but class just isn’t the same without Freddie’s giggling fits coming from the seat next to him. 

“Have you finished yet?” Freddie asks him, peering over to look in his cup.  He’s so far into Brian’s space suddenly that Brian can smell his hair (coconut) and feels his face heat up when he’s realises what he’s just done.  “You haven’t even drank any!  Come _on_ , darling!”

Brian hastily downs his tea, which is lukewarm at best, and Freddie catches his wrist just before he turns it upside down on its saucer.

“You have to swill it around three times first.”

“Oh.”  Brian’s more focused on the feeling of Freddie’s hand on him ( _again_ , sweet Merlin he’s pathetic) but he dutifully swills and upends his cup on the saucer.  “How long do we have to wait for?”

Freddie bends his head to check the book, flipping a few pages to try and find out.

Brian turns his attention to Deaky and Roger, who have already moved on to interpreting their cups.

“Oh, dear, Rog,” Deaky’s saying very seriously, shaking his head.  “This is bad news, very bad news.”  He makes a face down at the cup and Roger leans in, frowning.

“What?” he asks.  “What is it?  You’re taking the piss.”

“No I’m not,” Deaky replies.  “I wish I was.  Look, it’s all right here.  Blond, annoying, _terrible_ fashion sense...it says here you’re going to meet a sticky, sticky end involving…”  Deaky tilts the cup and pauses for dramatic effect then ruins it by snorting with laughter, “ _hair potions_.”

Roger shoves him and grabs Deaky’s cup, glancing into it.  “Oh yeah, and it says right here that you’re an _asshole_.”

Brian laughs and leans forward.  “What does that look like, Rog?” he asks, before turning back as Freddie taps him.

“Ours should be ready now, pass me your cup.”  

Brian hands it over and settles back in his chair, idly flipping his book open to the right page though he really doesn’t think there’s anything very concrete in it, it’s hardly _science_ , it’s barely even magic.

Freddie stares hard into Brian’s cup, turning it this way and that for a few moments.  “Okay, this looks...this looks kind of like a heart, but it’s a bit broken up, I’m not sure…”

A _heart_?  Brian’s _instantly_ nervous, running a finger along the page to find it.  “Heart...yeah it’s like, um, love and stuff,” he says, making a face.  “Are you sure that’s what it is?”

“Yes, but it’s got lines through it,” Freddie says, still staring intently into Brian’s tea leaves.

“Broken lines through a heart can indicate heart ache and unrequited love,” Roger, who has apparently been listening, reads aloud from his own textbook.  “If in a relationship, one should be wary of an unfaithful partner.”  He looks knowingly at Brian, who wants to murder him.  “Huh, well, we know Bri’s not in a relationship,” Roger says thoughtfully, “so I guess that means unrequited love.  Like he has a crush or something.”

Freddie looks at Brian in surprise.  “Do you?” 

“What?  No, of course not,” Brian says quickly.

Freddie’s face falls and he looks back down.  “Oh, maybe I’m reading it wrong,” he says disappointedly, holding the cup bare inches from his face now.  “Maybe...I don’t know, with those lines, maybe it’s a bird instead?  Those could be wings…”

“Dove—assures personal happiness and faithfulness in love—oh, is it flying, Fred?” Roger asks, ignoring Brian’s glare.

“Maybe, yeah,” Freddie says, squinting.  “The wings are sort of out, if those are wings.  I still think it looks like a heart.”

“A bird in flight indicates new beginnings, challenges, taking risks that pay off, especially with regards to... _new relationships_ ,” Roger reads, smirking.

Freddie frowns.  “Brian’s already said that’s not true,” he says mournfully.  “I’m not very good at this.”

“Is there anything else in there, Fred?” Brian asks hopefully.  “Try that instead.”  He feels like a complete ass seeing the sad look on Freddie’s face, lying to him about the interpretation but it’s not _true_ , Divination is a load of rubbish so it’s not like it’s possible to be _bad_ at it.  But Freddie doesn’t think so, he _cares_ about this stupid subject and now Brian’s the one making him think he’s failing at it when actually he’s right on the money.  

Merlin’s beard, what a mess.

“Maybe...this thing could be an umbrella?” Freddie suggests, looking up.

“An umbr—ohh, or could it be a parasol?” Roger asks.

Freddie takes another look.  “Could be,” he agrees.  “It’s quite flat...what does that mean?”

“A new lover on the horizon,” Roger says gleefully.

Brian could kill him.  “What does an umbrella mean?” he asks pointedly.

“Freddie said it was a parasol, so that doesn’t matter,” Roger says smugly.  

“It _is_ a bit of a lovey cup, Bri...are you _sure_ you don’t have a crush?” Freddie asks, putting the cup back in its saucer.  “We’re your best friends, you should tell us if you—”

“I _don’t_.”

Freddie deflates.  “I preferred palmistry.”

So did Brian, actually.  He and Freddie had held hands all lesson and it had been a little hard to focus but it had been more than worth it and they hadn’t so much as strayed near dangerous territory such as _crushes_.  

“Why don’t you try reading Freddie’s cup, Brian?” Roger suggests.

Brian doesn’t like the mischievous look on his face at all but the idea makes Freddie perk up a bit so he agrees, taking the little pink teacup and looking down into it.

In all honesty it just looks like a load of wet, lumpy tea leaves that are better off chucked in the compost but he has to try, it might cheer Freddie up.

“Um…”  It’s harder than it looks to pick out something that could be a symbol of some kind.  “This could be...the...sun?”

“Oh, yes,” Roger says, looking down at his book as Freddie starts flipping through his own.  “Very meaningful, this one.  Yeah, a sun means that a very close friend of yours could have the most embarrassing crush on you but won’t _say_ anything about it because he’s scared even though he really, _really_ wants to be your boyfriend—”

“ _Roger_ ,” Brian says warningly, setting the cup down so hard the handle snaps clean off.

Freddie’s frowning down at his book and doesn’t notice as Deaky leans forward to fix it with a quiet, “ _Reparo_.”

“That’s not what it means,” Freddie says, looking up.  “It says here—”

Roger snaps his book shut.  “Oh yes it does,” he speaks over him.  “A very tall friend with crazy hair and his name is _-_ ”

Roger is effectively silenced by Deaky slapping a hand over his mouth but the damage is done.

Brian stands abruptly.  “You’re an _asshole_ , Roger,” he says acidly before storming over to the trapdoor without another word, the surprised stares of their classmates all following him.

“Brian!” Freddie calls after him, but the door snaps shut behind him and he doesn’t look back.  “What the hell was _that_?”

“You shouldn’t have said that, Roger,” Deaky says lowly, dropping his hand.  “It’s his own business.”

Roger shrugs unapologetically.  “He’s always moping around, he needed a push.”

Freddie gets up as well, grabbing both his and Brian’s things.  “I’m going to go and find him.”

“Good idea,” Roger says brightly.  “We’ll meet you after.”

Freddie slips out of the classroom with rather less drama than Brian had garnered, carefully making his way down the ladder with two bags in arm—not the easiest task.

It doesn’t take long to find him; Brian’s crammed himself into a window nook just one corridor away, glaring out at the grounds.

“Bri?” Freddie calls softly, stopping a few steps away.

Brian doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even acknowledge him, and Freddie drifts a tiny bit closer.  

“Brian, darling—”

“It’s true, you know,” Brian says suddenly.  He still won’t look at Freddie.  “Everything he said.  He’s an asshole for saying it but it _is_ true.  And I _was_ too scared, I never would have said anything.”

Freddie swallows hard, his heart suddenly hammering.  It’s _true_?  He’d _hoped_ , sometimes, in the past, but Brian can be so distant; they have such a lovely time together and Freddie thinks maybe there’s _something_ but then he’s right back to acting all absent and vague and Freddie wonders who he’s kidding thinking Brian would ever want _anything_ , let alone with him.

“Why were you scared?” he asks.

“Because,” Brian says, scratching his fingernail down the iron lattice of the window and focusing on that instead of Freddie.  “I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.”

“Ruin it?” Freddie asks.  He comes closer again, close enough to put his hand on Brian’s knee and Brian _finally_ looks at him, then.  “Don’t you think...maybe...it might make it better?” he asks shyly.

Brian’s eyes are wide and disbelieving.  “ _Really_?”

“Well, maybe,” Freddie says, suddenly doubting himself and backing up a step, his hand disappearing from Brian’s knee, which isn’t what Brian wanted at all.

He hastily slips off the window sill and reaches out to catch hold of Freddie before he can back away any more.  “No, that’s not what I—I hope it will.  I think it will.  I didn’t think _you’d_ think that.”

“Well...do you want to try it?” Freddie asks carefully.

“Yes.”  Brian hasn’t wanted anything else more in his life.  Well, except one thing…  

“Can I kiss you?”

Freddie grins and nods, obligingly leaning into his toes so Brian doesn’t have to bend down quite so far to press their lips together.  Just quickly—it’s soft and sweet and perfect and Brian’s heart’s beating so fast it nearly hurts.

He kisses him again, just _because_ , and Freddie laughs giddily against his mouth.

And again, because he _loves_ that laugh and sweet Merlin, why haven’t they been doing this all year?  So many afternoons wasted poring over Transfiguration textbooks and watching Roger practice Quidditch when they could have been doing _this_.  

Brian only manages to make himself pull away because the bell rings for lunch and while he’d happily stand here all afternoon making out with Freddie, other people are going to get annoyed with them if they keep blocking the corridor like this.

“Shall we go downstairs?” Brian asks reluctantly.

Freddie nods his agreement and starts down the corridor, tucking his hand into Brian’s and twining their fingers together.

All of a sudden, Brian resents the walk to the Great Hall a lot less.  Freddie’s hand is small and perfect inside his, just like it had been in those palm-reading classes where Brian’s heart nearly leapt out of his chest every time Freddie touched him, but so much _better_ because this time it’s real.  

“So,” Freddie says conversationally, “I must actually be pretty good at tea reading.”

Brian can’t help but laugh.  “Must be.  Though apparently not as good as Roger.”

“Oh, Merlin.  He’s going to be so smug about this, you know,” Freddie realises.

“Let him,” Brian says carelessly, pausing to kiss Freddie once more because he just can’t help himself.  (And _again_ because he really, _really_ can’t help himself).

How they manage to get to the Great Hall Brian isn’t actually sure, but Roger and Deaky find them seated at the Ravenclaw table ten minutes later, both trying to eat one handed rather than let go of the other’s hand.

True to form, Roger is wearing the biggest, smuggest grin known to man.  “You’re _welcome_ , you idiots.”

“Yes, thank you for inventing _Divination_ , Rog,” Freddie replies with an eye-roll.  “Can’t wait to hear about what you see in the crystal balls next week.”

Nor can Brian, as it happens; he thinks he might have discovered a newfound appreciation for Divination.

 

 

 

 


End file.
